Moonbyul's POV

The movie had ended nearly two minutes ago and even the credits shown was coming to an end. But neither of is seemed to care as we cuddled closer to each other; her arm around my waist while mine was draped over her shoulder and my chin resting over the crown of her head.

“I don’t like the ending,” she whined, tilting her head slightly and placed her chin atop of my chest as she looked at me with her usual puppy eyes that I loved. Irony how she was the older one between us, yet she was the one who often acted childishly.

“Why?” I asked, her cheek with the pad of my thumb. She pouted.

“Why must the girl die? Can’t they just make it so that the lead would wake up from her coma and they live happily ever after?” 

“Because it ain’t some Disney movie. Not everyone get to have happily ever after,” I reply, which she then huffed in frustration and landed a hard slap on my abdomen.

“Say Byul-ah,” she started, in which I hummed as a response.

“How do you see us ten years from now?” she asked. Pure curiosity was  glinting in her eyes. Gone was the puppy look that she gave me a while ago.

“What about you?” I answered her question with another question, yet she didn’t seem annoyed like she usually would. Instead, she pressed her lips into a thin line and ceases started to form on her forehead before she wriggles her herself out of my arm and went on to lay her head on my lap.

“I’ll wake up with your voice calling for my name and you’ll serve me my breakfast in bed. You’ll bring my coffee and place a kiss on my head,” her expression was dreamy and her gaze was into the thin air, looking so faraway ahead.

“And why would I do so?” I interrupted. Her smile stretched wider, took my hand and started to play with my finger, gaze was bow on me.

“I’d say thank you and you’ll say I love you. Then you’ll take the kids to school while I wave them goodbye from our veranda. And when you leave, I won’t waste a second to thank my lucky star,”

“Why?”

“For sending me my very own star. You,”

My heart skipped a beat, and I’m very well aware of it. I was so happy that my cheekbone ached from how wide my smile was, and I’m sure the muscles around my nose were working extra hard at that very moment.

“Being greasy is my job, you know?” I said, hoping to take her attention off of the blushing mess that I’ve became.

“I know, but it's good to see you flustered once a while,” she teased.

“So Byul, it's your turn now,” 

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Inspired from James Arthur' Say You Won't Let Go and Andy Crammer's Crazy Beautiful ..